


Stolen Heart

by Wolfscub



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bathing, Caretaking, F/M, Fluff, Loki and a Puppy, Loki in love, Romantic!Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3314174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfscub/pseuds/Wolfscub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>None of my usual warnings apply.</p><p>This is damned vanilla, especially for me, but Romantic!Loki has been on my mind of late (well, a while ago - I actually had forgotten I'd written this!).  He's not even Dom!Loki in this - go figure.</p><p>One shot.  I know that there are all sorts of places to go with this, but I just don't think my muse cares enough to go there, or I would have already written more.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Stolen Heart

**Author's Note:**

> None of my usual warnings apply.
> 
> This is damned vanilla, especially for me, but Romantic!Loki has been on my mind of late (well, a while ago - I actually had forgotten I'd written this!). He's not even Dom!Loki in this - go figure.
> 
> One shot. I know that there are all sorts of places to go with this, but I just don't think my muse cares enough to go there, or I would have already written more.

She swung her legs over the edge of their enormous bed, yawning loudly, the puppy dancing excitedly near feet that didn't even touch the floor - the bed in their chambers on Asgard, not unlike her husband, was so tall that, if he didn't lift her into it, as he was wont to do, she practically had to pole vault into it. And, to her surprise, as she wiped her hand over her still sleep infused eyes, he began to materialize in front of her, in full, green and gold regalia, minus his helmet, which he knew she thought was more of a hazard than a enhancement to his look, especially since it prevented her from running her fingers through his hair, and neither of them wanted that.

The puppy immediately switched allegiances to dance around him, instead, begging for just a sliver of attention from the _real_ object of her affection, but his eyes were solely for his little Midgardian, much to the pup's distress, not that she let the expected rejection dampen her enthusiasm in the least as she continued to bounce and yip softly around the prized tennis ball that filled her small mouth.

He was on one knee, and after he'd caught her drowsy eye, he bowed his head to her, one hand held palm up before him, towards her. "My Queen," he breathed solemnly.

She was not, technically a queen, mind you - as she often gently reminded him, which he always countered by insisting lovingly, "But you are _my_ Queen."

"Your bath awaits, my heart," he murmured, looking up at her with a soft smile, the edges of which promised that she would likely not be bathing alone this morning.

Small fingers were unhesitatingly placed into his as they closed gently around hers and he rose, using that hold to assist her down off the bed, then bringing them to his lips for a warm kiss as his eyes openly adored her and a pink blush suffused her cheeks at his blatantly - and perpetually - hungry look.

Loki took a step towards her, a low, passionate growl in his throat that was cut short by a soft rap at the door. 

"Enter if you must," he commanded in a tone that definitely didn't invite the untimely interruption, and thus the door remained firmly shut.

And, as he'd come to expect, he found himself swatted smartly on the shoulder for being unwelcoming - even to a servant.

"Come in, Eire," she encouraged, and the door opened immediately.

Before she could indulge in what she knew he thought of as further coddling, he preempted her and, in his usual officious tone, ordered, without having so much as looked at the girl, "Take the beast away and keep her occupied until I call for her."

The maid scurried to do his bidding, practically falling down from shaking as she did so. She attempted several times to pry the devoted little dog away from Loki, until finally, he bent down and scooped up the pup, keeping the wiggling devil with its eager tongue at arms length until he could deposit her into the servant's waiting arms.

"Loki."

He heard her soft, expectant tone and sighed, retracting his arms to hold the puppy awkwardly against his breastplate instead, reaching up to scratch her behind the ears as she slavishly tried to lick his hand.

Her mistress's tinkling laugh at his efforts - which was the entire reason Loki had relented and was cuddling the pup a bit - turned up the corners of his fierce scowl.

Finally she took pity on him. "All right, all right. I know you're only doing that under duress. Hand the beast -" she sighed in annoyance. "Now you've got me doing it, too, blast! Hand Sasha over to Eire and let's let the poor woman get on with her day."

The maid gave her mistress an appallingly grateful look as the master handed her the dog with undue haste.

His wife piped up a slightly reproachful tone that he knew wasn't being directed at the girl, "Thank you, Eire."

The girl curtsied unnecessarily - much to Loki's disgust she'd told all of the servants that they need not do that around her - and scurried out with her precious cargo.

Seconds later, before the door had even closed, she found herself slammed up against Loki's front, one strong arm around her waist, the other buried in her loose, sleep-tangled hair.

"I thought she would never leave," he grumbled, nuzzling her jaw hungrily. "I was worried you were going to suggest we all celebrate the day of your birth together."

He sounded so truly horrified at that idea that she had to giggle.

As much as he wanted to take her to bed right then and there, he had other things in mind. So instead of indulging himself with her - and in her - as he might have on any other day, Loki claimed her hand again and guided her into their enormous bathroom, where the huge tub was already full near to overflowing with lily of the valley scented bubbles.

"Won't it have gotten cold?" she mused out loud as he turned her to him, sinking to his knees before her yet again - with absolutely no hesitation either time, she noted with no small amount of pride and eschewing the fact that he could have accomplished the task with the wave of his hand, preferring instead to attend to her personally - to gather the hem of the soft green and gold gown in which she slept to stand with it in his hands, slowly, teasing both himself and her as he drew it up and over her head in one easy, fluid motion, sending it billowing to the floor, he cared not where. 

Loki's chin tipped down as he gave her a surprised look. "Would I ever allow that to happen to your bathwater, loveliest?"

When she smiled up at him in any way, his heart nearly stopped every time. His reactions to her had always been dramatic, and it seemed that that hadn't faded over time, but rather had intensified every minute of every hour of every day that they were together.

She shook her head solemnly. You would have thought she would have learned that after almost four years together. "No, you would not." But she didn't think she'd ever get used to the power he wielded - with both his magic and his body - so effortlessly.

With that, he lifted her into his arms and placed her carefully into the bath, thoroughly enjoying her squeaks and squeals when the just right hot water touched her flawless skin then cascaded over the sides of the big tub, carrying the tiny flowers he had placed there in decoration - along with copious amounts of bubbles - with it.

Completely oblivious to the wetness, Loki took a seat beside the tub, preferring to tease himself a bit rather than joining her immediately, turning her face to his and kissing her deeply. "This is indeed a day worthy of great celebration. As your parents are not alive for me to formally thank with extravagant gifts and speeches and parades, I believe I shall commission a statue of them. They gave me the greatest gift I have ever known, and I shall always be humbly grateful to them for having done so."

She never knew how to respond when he said things like that to her.

"That's not necessary, Loki. I know that, wherever they are, they're ecstatic that I have found you."

In their early days, he would have argue with her about that quite vehemently, believing that there would be no reason at all for them to have rejoiced at the idea of their vulnerable little daughter becoming involved with a being who was known for little beyond a distinct propensity for lies and death and violence.

Those were some of the few times he could ever remember seeing her truly angry, and she had gotten into his face each and every time - unfailingly - to point out to him that he wasn't that way any more, that he was on the side of right now - working _with_ the Avengers instead of against them - and that he did feel true remorse about his previous actions.

And then she had taken his face in her hands as he had bent his knees to allow her do so more easily, and had reminded him that her parents would have loved him simply because he so obviously, blatantly, and unapologetically loved _her_.

And he did. He had since the moment he'd set eyes on her.

As he turned himself towards where she relaxed against the back of the tub, her eyes closed, sighing contentedly, he picked up a square of the softest material in Asgard and began to wash her with it, starting with her shoulders.

He already knew this was going to be an exercise in control, but it wasn't until his hand found her delicious contours that he remembered just how terribly hard it was going to be.

Adjusting his position to sit on the edge of the tub, leaning his shoulder against the opposite side, he raised her arm out of the water in order to slowly and thoroughly wash its length.

Her eyes were still closed, although he was gratified to know that he wasn't alone in feeling tormented when he caught the way she was biting her lip, but she none the less took the opportunity to scold him gently - if in a roundabout manner - as he ignited every nerve he touched. 

"Please be nicer to Eire, my love."

Through long practice, he managed to suppress his snort of derision at her request. She knew that there was little he would ever deny her - it she had asked for gold or jewels or things, she would have had them before the request died on her lips.

But she never asked him for anything of the sort. She rarely asked him for anything at all, so when she did request something from him, he felt just that much more obligated to accommodate her.

It was always something like this - would he please not be so short with their staff? Would he please say something kind to his mother? Would he please try not to argue with Thor-slash-Odin every time they were together?

They were all much harder things for him to accomplish than merely presenting her with the unlimited baubles he sometimes wished she'd preferred, like most females of his acquaintance.

"I _was_ nice to Eire," he countered carefully, watching her try not to laugh at him - with limited success - out of the corner of his eye. "Well, she has been with us for how long and she is still so mousy and nervous - "

"Not unlike me when I first met you?" she reminded him. 

He leaned down to capture lips that were still trying to suppress a chuckle at his expense, but when he left them, long moments later desperately trying to catch a breath, instead, he turned his own egotistical words into a compliment to her, "There _are_ no other women like you."

He adored making her blush - and she still did so with delightful frequency, despite how depraved she inspired him to be with her, and it still enchanted him just as much as it always had.

"I was terrified of you, too, as you well know."

And his heart still caught at the mere mention of it. "I do, my darling, and it pains me to think of it."

"I'm sorry, but you did manage to win _me_ over . . . "

Loki looked overly-appalled. "You would have me try to charm her? What if I am swept away by her -"

He found his lips covered by hers as she looped her arms around his strong neck and pulled herself up to him. "Don't be obtuse. You know I'd have to kill you if that happened. No woman shall ever have you again but me," she growled. " _Or else_."

"You know I am just teasing you, little one . . ." Although he did love it when she was so fierce about something - and it always seemed to be him.

"Well, I'm _not_ ," she continued to rumble, hugging him tightly. "I'm serious, Loki. If you did something like that -"

He placed a finger over her lips, sorry that he'd gone down this road with her, never wanting to upset her over something so foolish that he knew would never ever come to be. But he was also astute enough - in regards to her, anyway - to know that she didn't think of it that way - it was an old hurt that was, unfortunately exacerbated by who and what he was - or rather, had been in the past - so he was very careful in his response, although he did allow a slight note of chastisement to enter his tone. "You know that I am sworn to you - that since the day I set eyes on you -"

"And nearly gave me a heart attack in the process," she added pertly.

" - I have never so much as _looked_ at another woman."

"Liar - I have seen you appreciating Natasha's . . . attributes when you thought that I wasn't looking - and I was standing right next to you!" she accused teasingly more than angrily.

He appeared truly wounded. "Well, if you would prefer that I go through the rest of my life blinded against the possibility of gazing upon any other female form, then your will be -" Loki raised his hand as if he was more than ready to strike himself blind at her behest.

She caught his arm and did her best to force it down, knowing she was only accomplishing the task because he allowed it. Otherwise she had no hope of budging his arm in the least. Few knew the extent of his strength better than she did.

"No! Of course I would not ever, _ever_ ask that of you or condemn you to that."

One long finger tipped her chin up so that his sharp green eyes could meet her stormy gray ones. "Well, then, I guess you will just have to be a foolish, trusting mortal, will you not?"

Although he had intended it to be a funny quip, he watched her swallow hard, tears seeping into her eyes as her gaze never wavered from his and she whispered, "I would gladly - gratefully - be any _one_ or any _thing_ my Prince desired in order to be allowed to spend even the most fleeting of moments in his presence . . . "

The sincerity of her words - their heartfelt tone - and the deep feelings he knew with absolutely no doubt were behind them, stark and bare as they were in her eyes - humbled him, making his heart ache painfully in a manner he didn't think he'd ever get used to. This tiny, Midgardian woman routinely rendered him speechless with just a look, her words only ever succeeding in wrapping the whole of his heart even more tightly around her smallest finger.

He could deny her nothing, least of all that which she seemed to crave above all else, which was - despite the drastic lack of intelligence the urge betrayed, as well as the incredible odds against it - him. Not what he could give her, not what his station could afford her, but _himself_ in his purest form, preferably untainted by magic - his time and his attention; things he had been miserly about granting to almost anyone else in his life.

But she - she had inspired the need in him to give to her of himself.

Even as, at first, she was practically shaking herself into tiny pieces in his presence.


End file.
